A New Road
by Joanna Grant
Summary: This is a continuation of "The End Of The Road" storyline and picks up right where "In Love With Mississippi" ended.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A New Road

Author: Karen

Disclaimer: If anyone wants me, I'll be in the Witness Protection Program.

Rating: R

Category: Drama

Summary: Logan gets a second chance.

WARNING: Character death.

Series: This is a continuation of "The End Of The Road" storyline and picks up right where "In Love With Mississippi" ended.

Italics indicates telepathic communication

Marie's POV

In the end we only had six years together. Six wonderful love-filled years. It wasn't nearly enough. Ethan had been sick, so I hadn't gone on what was supposed to be a routine mission. When they returned with my husband's lifeless body I sat in on the debriefing and heard Hank say it had been a tactical error. In other words, it had been Scott's own fault. I had no one to blame but him. He'd made a battlefield decision that turned out to be fatal and left me with two children and six years of memories. I was twenty-five years old and I was a widow. For all the acknowledgement of the dangers we faced every time we donned the leather, it still left me unprepared for the cold harshness of reality. The fact that my husband had died a hero, saving countless others, was of little comfort to me.

Two weeks later, I was in the shower when I doubled over in excruciating pain and saw blood trickling down my thighs. I wrapped myself in a towel and staggered down to the medlab in time for Jean to help me as I lost Scott's baby. The baby he never even knew about.

They say there are stages of grieving, that it's normal. At first there was the denial and shock stage – he wasn't really dead. Even when they lowered his casket into the ground, I refused to believe it. The anger – why did he always have to be such a goddamn hero? The bargaining – I'd give up the hard-won control of my mutation, I'd quit biting my nails, whatever God asked of me, I just wanted fifty more years with him. That wasn't too much to ask, was it? The guilt – maybe if I'd gone on the mission, I could've done something. Taken out the bad guy before he got a chance to cut down the father of my children. The depression and loneliness stages threatened to suck the life force right out of me as they engulfed me completely. There were days in those first few weeks that I couldn't force myself out of bed, preferring to wrap myself in the sheets I'd refused to wash because his scent still lingered on them, a combination of Abercrombie & Fitch's Fierce and pure Scott. Kitty and Jubilee were a godsend, taking care of Sara and Ethan because their mother was a shell of her former self, incapable of even the simplest of routine tasks like making sure they brushed their teeth or that their breakfast consisted of more than just a bowl of Fruit Loops or a doughnut.

One afternoon as I lay in bed hugging Scott's pillow, Sara came into the room and informed me that Jubilee was the worst peanut butter and jelly sandwich maker on the face of the planet because she'd used strawberry jam with lumps instead of grape jelly.

I looked at my daughter's sad expression and burst out laughing, which prompted her to burst into tears. I'm sure that she thought her mother had finally slipped over the edge into complete madness and was distraught at the idea that Jubilee might have to take over mothering duties permanently. I gathered my sobbing child into my arms and begged her forgiveness as I started crying myself.

"Don't cry, mommy," Sara said, wiping her own eyes with her sleeve.

"Oh, baby," I sniffed, "mommy didn't mean to laugh at you."

"I'm sorry I cried and made you stop laughing," she replied.

"It's okay, peanut," I said, using her father's nickname for her as I gathered her in closer.

"He's not coming back, mommy, no matter how much we cry," my five-year old, with the wisdom of an adult, informed me.

"I know, peanut. Mommy just misses daddy a lot and my heart hurts."

"My heart hurts, too. Ethan thinks daddy's still away because he can't find good presents and that's what's taking so long."

I smiled at that. Trust my two-year old son to think in terms of gifts. Scott and I had a hidden stash of toys in a locker in the Ready Room and whenever we came back from a mission we'd always have presents for the kids. I remembered one time when Sara had asked Scott if they were 'airport gifts', because that's what her friend Lisa said she always got from her father when he came home from a business trip.

I got out of the bed and pulled on a robe.

"Let's go fix you a decent peanut butter and jelly sandwich, okay?" I said holding out my hand.

"Yeah," Sara said as she pressed her small hand into mine.

We walked into the kitchen to find Jubilee sipping a cup of coffee and Ethan with his face smeared with Spaghetti-O's. I'd swear my son was the messiest eater on the planet.

"Mommy!" he yelled, jumping up and spilling his glass of milk in the process.

Jubilee instantly produced a towel and nonchalantly pressed it into the puddle. We were all well prepared for my son, the walking disaster-zone. My mini tornado launched himself into my arms, leaving orange-colored sauce stains on my white robe as he hugged me.

"Hey, Scooter," I said as I cuddled him to me.

I'd always found it amusing that Scott's nickname for our son was the teasing nickname Logan had once bestowed on him.

I carried Ethan over to the sink, pulled a washcloth out of a drawer and dampened it ready to clean him up. He'd even managed to get sauce on his ears! As I wiped the last of his lunch off of his face and hands he gave a big yawn.

"I think somebody needs a nap," I said as I kissed his button nose.

"Great," Jubilee said with a sigh, "Just what the kid needs, a chance to recharge his batteries."

Ethan stampeded around the mansion with so much energy and destructive force that Scott had once jokingly asked me if I'd had an affair with Logan and Ethan was really a product of Logan's genetics instead of his. Unfortunately, at the time I didn't find the joke amusing and he found himself bunking on the couch for the night. I was lost in the memories of how we'd made up the next day when the Professor interrupted me on what Logan had always termed the brain phone.

_Marie, I'd like to see you in my office at your convenience, please. _

_Just let me just put Ethan down for a nap and I'll be right there, Charles. _

_Splendid. I'll see you soon. _

I'd told Charles that I would no longer be a part of the team as I couldn't take the risk that Sara and Ethan might lose both their parents. I also told him that I didn't expect him to let us stay at the mansion and that as soon as the life insurance claim was settled, I'd find a new place to live. He informed me that Scott had been a son to him in all but biology and as such, I was his daughter-in-law and Sara and Ethan his grandchildren, therefore, as his family he wanted us to stay. He told me that he'd promised Scott that he'd always provide for us should anything ever happen. He sensed my hesitation in accepting charity, so he told me that when I felt ready, if I would continue teaching he'd consider that payment enough.

I put Ethan down for his afternoon nap, showered and dressed and went down to Charles' office.

"Good afternoon, Marie," Charles greeted me.

"Good afternoon, Charles," I reciprocated as I leaned down to kiss his cheek before seating myself in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.

"I'll come straight to the point," he began, "As you know, Ororo has declined to take over as Team Leader and of course, the team can't continue any longer without leadership …"

He trailed off and hesitated momentarily.

"Marie," he finally continued, the hitch in his voice evident, "I've asked Logan to return from England to lead the team."

Logan had been in England since a few months after Ethan's birth two years previously. After his relationship with Hayley had suddenly imploded, he'd accepted Charles' offer to lead an English division of the X-Men called Excalibur, named in honor of King Arthur's legendary sword.

"What about the Excalibur team?" I asked trying to sound nonchalant.

"Logan feels that Brian is ready to assume control. They've assembled a strong team in the last two years and now it's time for him to come home."

"Yes, of course, Logan would be the logical choice." I said, hoping I sounded calm even as my stomach was doing somersaults.

Logan and I hadn't parted on exactly the best of terms. He'd never accepted my marriage to Scott and my apparent desire to keep producing children with my husband had been in his words, "As if someone had used one of my own claws on my heart." The creation of the team in England had been the perfect excuse for him to be as far away as possible from having to watch me be happy. And now he was coming back. He hadn't attended Scott's funeral, having been away on a mission of his own at the time.

"He'll be here by the end of the week. I just thought you should know," Charles informed me.

"Thank you, I appreciate that. I need to go check on Ethan now," I said, wanting to end this awkward discussion.

"Of course," Charles said.

I walked out of the office slightly stunned. Logan was coming back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Logan's POV**

I'd been looking for an excuse to go back to Westchester, so when I was asked to take over the leadership of the X-Men, I didn't hesitate to accept. It was only now as I walked off the Blackbird that my stomach did a flip. I stood in the hangar, afraid to go upstairs. It had been two years. Two years of limited contact with her, the only one who'd ever broken my heart. When she first took off for Alaska and disappeared off my radar I was pissed that she hadn't forgiven me for what I considered a minor lapse in judgment. When she returned with a baby that turned out to be Scott's I felt as if someone had shoved one of my own claws into my heart. The claw was sunk in even deeper when she married Scott and had Ethan. Those kids should've been mine, damnit. The cosmos was seriously fucked up. I couldn't stick around watching her produce a houseful of kids with Mr. GQ, so when Charles offered me the opportunity to be a whole ocean away from having to torture myself on a daily basis, I'd jumped at it.

I'd cursed Scott to Hell countless times; now he was dead and I felt guilty, even though I didn't have anything to do with his death. I hadn't attended the funeral, being conveniently away on a mission, but I sent flowers and a brief note extending my condolences and saying that Scott was a good man. Despite our obvious issues, I did recognize that about him, that's what pissed me off the most. Bottom line was, out of the two of us, he'd been the better man for Marie – stable, even-tempered, considerate and most importantly, faithful. All the things I'd aimed for, but somehow kept missing the target.

And now I was back and all I wanted to do was convince Marie to give me another chance. Scott's body was barely cold. I was such a bastard.

Jubilee was the first to greet me when I finally entered the house. She was dressed in blue jeans and a shirt in her trademark fluorescent yellow; which is fine on a teenager, but a little garish on a twenty-five year old.

"Christ, Jubes, I didn't realize I'd need shades in the house," I said as I pretended to be blinded by the glare.

"Welcome home and fuck you," she said and then gave me a casual kiss on the cheek.

Just then a small blur charged into the hall and Sara launched herself into my arms.

"LOGAN!" She screamed as she put her arms around my neck and planted a kiss on my cheek.

"Hey, angelface. How's my girl?" I asked as I shifted her in my arms and started walking toward Charles' office, "Catch ya later, Jubes." I called over my shoulder.

"I have a loose tooth," she told me and opened her mouth to show me how she could wiggle one of her tiny little front teeth.

"Looks like someone's gonna get a visit from the Tooth Fairy soon," I said, happy to be indulging in small talk with my favorite munchkin.

All the way to the office Sara chattered on about everything that was happening in her world. I was enjoying listening to her and wondering if her mother would give me such a warm welcome. Probably not. When we reached the office I put her down and informed her that I needed to talk to Grandpa Charles, but I'd see her soon.

"Are you gonna be the boss now my daddy's gone to Heaven?"

Well at least she understood Scott wasn't coming home.

"Yeah, angelface, I'm gonna be the new boss," I told her.

"Good luck," she said – then added, "You're gonna need it."

Just as I reached to open the door, I turned to her and asked the question I'd been avoiding.

"Where's your mommy?"

"She's teaching until the clock in the hall bings three times."

"Thanks. I'll see you later, okay?" I replied as I waved goodbye to her, opened the door without bothering to knock first and entered the office.

"Welcome back, Logan. How was your flight?" Charles greeted me.

"Uneventful. Just the way I like it," I answered.

We spent the next two hours discussing everything from the progress of the Excalibur team to my ascension as the new team leader here. I noticed he studiously avoided mentioning Marie. We scheduled a meeting the next day with Storm who would be my second in command just as she'd been Scott's. Even though I can't suffer from jet lag, I was still eager to get situated in my old room and so we concluded the meeting.

I stood up to leave when Charles said, "Logan, don't expect too much from Marie. She's been through a lot and she might not be ready for a big deliberation on the status of your relationship."

"Reading my mind, Chuck?" I asked quietly.

"I didn't have to. You've been projecting pretty strongly since the minute you walked in here. I just don't want you pushing her, that's all. Give her time."

"Look, I highly doubt I could convince her to run off with me to the Little Chapel of Love in Vegas, but I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you I don't have an interest in her."

"And I don't think I need to remind you that she's only just buried her husband. A man she was deeply in love with," he replied with more than a touch of irritation in his voice. I knew Scott was one of his favorites, while I wasn't even on that short list – so his tone didn't surprise me.

"I know that. I'm not that big of an asshole. But I also don't intend to let another six years go by, either," I replied, wanting to placate him a little while still being honest.

I ended the conversation by stepping out into the hall and closing the door. I looked at the clock in the main foyer. It was 3:30, which meant that according to Sara, Marie had finished teaching. I headed for the kitchen hoping to catch her getting her ritual after class cup of coffee, my duffel bag still slung over my shoulder, plans for settling in my room temporarily delayed.

I found Kitty instead, giving Sara and a little boy about two years old, whom I assumed was Ethan, an afternoon snack. Ethan was a miniature version of Scott and I thought it must be heartbreaking for Marie to have such a strong reminder of what she'd lost.

"Hi, Logan. Welcome home," Kitty said brightly.

"Hey, half-pint," I replied.

Sara was eating applesauce and Ethan was wearing most of his. I dropped my duffel bag on the floor, walked over to the coffeemaker and poured myself a mug. I sat down at the table and made small talk with Kitty for a while and then casually asked her where Marie was.

"She's at the indoor pool, why don't you go say 'Hi'."

"Yeah, I probably should make a point of greeting everyone," I said, hoping I sounded nonchalant.

I excused myself and made my way to the pool, which turned out to be a mistake as Marie was just getting out of the water when I arrived. I realized too late that I wasn't prepared to get my first glimpse of her in two years wearing nothing more than a tiny bikini.


	3. Chapter 3

**Marie's POV**

I'd just gotten out of the pool and was still enough of a distance away from a towel that I hadn't been able to cover up before Logan got a good look at me practically naked. In the six years I'd had control over my mutation, first with the suppression bracelet and then a year ago with full cognizant control, I'd worn a bikini around plenty of men. Now, however, I felt uncharacteristically vulnerable in front of this particular man, who made no attempt to hide the fact he was staring at me. I felt like those burning hazel eyes of his were stripping off the miniscule pieces of cloth that barely covered me. I was finally able to reach the towel and wrap it around myself, regaining some sense of modesty, which also worked to break his concentration and let him finally look me in the eye. We just stood there silently, neither one of us apparently knowing what to say.

How could I have forgotten how devastatingly handsome he is? He was wearing a pair of snug-fitting faded Levi's and a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and enough of the buttons undone to allow some chest hair to peek through. Gone were the animal ear-like tufts of hair, replaced with a more modern cut that made him look like he'd just fallen out of bed. He'd also shaved off his signature muttonchops, but had a couple of day's worth of beard shadowing his face, making him look a little dangerous and sexy as hell at the same time. Damn him. I chided myself for having such a strong reaction to another man so soon after burying my husband ~ the love of my life, the father of my children, the one who'd been there for me, and who'd never betrayed me, unlike a certain someone, who was standing in front of me looking like the very definition of sin.

Logan had been sorely disappointed when I'd failed to unconditionally forgive him for screwing Jean. He'd had the gall to be insulted and wounded when I married the father of my child, the man I'd fallen in love with and who loved me back with equal devotion. A man who hadn't felt the uncontrollable urge to bed every female that batted her eyes at him. It wasn't that Scott had been lacking in offers from women with no respect for the fact that he was married; he'd just chosen to take his commitment seriously.

Logan, on the other hand, was a man who'd ripped my heart out and stomped on it and would probably do it again if given the right opportunity, like a waitress in a short skirt for example. Tales of his exploits in England had drifted back across the ocean; with the rumor that the reason so many women were eager to join the Excalibur team was because of the recruitment incentive of a 'sexual initiation' by the seductive leader. If even a small fraction of the reports were true, Logan hadn't lacked for company during his sojourn in England. Well, he'd be pleased to find out that we'd had quite a few new female recruits ourselves in the last couple of years, a whole fresh batch of prospective bedmates for him. Much to the chagrin of the male population, an excited anticipation had settled over the mansion's post-pubescent female population ever since the news of his impending return had been announced.

Good thing he had that healing factor, I thought sarcastically, as it would certainly be put to the test if Lorna, Dani, and Alison, to name just a few, had their way. He'd be out of luck with Ororo, who was now engaged to Warren, another man Jean couldn't seem to keep interested beyond a one-night stand. 'Ro, unlike Jean, believed that an engagement ring meant fidelity and that it wasn't acceptable for her to continue screwing everyone else right up until she was actually reciting her vows. Jean, undoubtedly, would take yet another shot at Logan, if her previously embarrassing and futile attempts hadn't taught her it was a lost cause. Logan would probably be able to screw Kitty and, if she'd allow him to gag her, Jubilee as well. Possibly both of them at the same time, if the rumors about them and John were true. Kitty and Jubes had certainly made their share of crude comments about Logan over the years and neither would likely turn down the opportunity to warm his bed. Well, I certainly had no intentions of getting on that extensive line, waiting my turn to be his conquest-of-the-night.

"I saw the kids. Well, I kinda saw Ethan; he was sorta covered in applesauce. Cute kid, though, and Sara's gonna be a real heartbreaker when she's older," he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Well, if you're still hanging around then, maybe you can date her," I retorted without thinking.

Ugh, that wasn't necessary. Why'd I say that?

"How are you holding up?" Logan asked, choosing to ignore my rudeness.

"Slowly working my way through the stages of grieving," I replied as I felt the tears well up, just as they always did at any allusion to Scott.

"I read over the debriefing report, I guess it was a pretty boneheaded error…."

"DON'T!" I yelled interrupting him – now more pissed off than upset, "Don't you dare disparage him."

"Marie, I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect."

Logan was standing there with this look on his face like he expected me to leap into his arms and beg him to make love to me. Well then, he was about to face the latest in a line of disappointments when it came to the reaction from me that he wanted and the one he was actually going to get.

"The problem, Logan, is that you're always saying you're sorry for something you've said or done. Why don't you try thinking before you say or do something? It might cut down on the number of half-assed apologies you feel obligated to make to me."

And with that, I swept past him feigning an air of indifference and calmly walked out of the pool area, leaving him standing there with his mouth agape. Well, that went really well, I thought bitingly. As soon as the door to the pool area had closed behind me and I was in the hallway, my façade crumbled and I practically ran back to my suite, my heart racing. Once in the safety of my room, I bolted shut the door, slid down the solid mahogany to the floor and burst into tears. Why did that man still have such an effect on me? What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn't a seventeen-year-old child with an unrequited crush anymore. I was a woman. I had been a wife and I was a mother. So why the hell did I feel like I'd just been transported back in time like some clichéd B-movie? I stripped off my bikini and got in the shower to rinse off the chlorine, standing under the spray until the water had cooled off enough to make me shiver.

As I stood in front of the vanity mirror to comb through my wet hair, I noticed that my eyes were red and puffy. I'd cried throughout my shower, not because I was mad at Logan for having the audacity to re-enter my life, but because the moment I saw him again feelings I thought I'd long suppressed had risen to the surface and the simple truth was, I'd felt guilty. As I raked the comb through my hair I began to rationalize that I probably wouldn't have anything to worry about. After all, Logan hadn't wanted me before, so he certainly wouldn't be interested now that I had two children, Scott's children at that, and a whole truckload of emotional baggage to boot. I tried to reassure myself that he'd be much too busy playing musical beds with all the willing, and not to mention baggage-free women, who would no doubt throw themselves at him like cats in heat for me to have to worry about defining our 'relationship'.

Besides, I told myself, I'd just had a perfectly normal reaction to seeing him again, that's all, and it didn't mean anything. I wasn't betraying Scott. Logan had the same effect on every female who came anywhere within his immediate vicinity. He radiated a simmering sexuality that threatened to boil over at any moment and I swore he emanated a pheromone that made him completely irresistible to those of us with the double X chromosome. It wasn't my fault I tried to convince myself. It was stupid genetics. I'd be fine the next time I saw him, which looking at the clock would be in about two hours at dinnertime. I could compose myself enough to be able to sit at the dinner table with him. I wouldn't be rude or sarcastic. I would be pleasant. I would be a real grown-up. And I would stop shaking by then – I hoped.

Dinner went reasonably well. I actually managed to participate in polite conversation. It hadn't even fazed me too much when I realized Logan was not too subtly staring at me throughout most of the meal. I knew he hadn't been paying attention to what was happening around him or he'd have been able to duck in time to avoid getting hit with a spoonful of mashed potatoes launched at him by my accurate-aiming son. I apologized profusely for Ethan, explaining that he'd recently acquired the nasty little habit of throwing things. When Logan said that he was grateful that at least it had been mashed potatoes and not a baked potato, I couldn't suppress a smile, which seemed to please him. I thought an all-out food fight was going to erupt during dessert when Logan decided to pay Ethan back by catapulting a spoonful of ice cream at him that landed in his hair. As the ice cream quickly melted and dripped down by son's head I could no longer contain my laughter. No one had ever had the nerve to throw something back before. The stunned look on my son's face as a bead of vanilla dripped off his nose told me that he'd been taught a valuable lesson – if not about throwing, then at least about his choice of targets. Or maybe not. I saw Ethan reach for the bottle of chocolate syrup and managed to stop him up before it became necessary for me to have to offer to do Logan's laundry. He noticed me take the potential weapon away from Ethan and just grinned.

I'd just put both the kids to bed when there was a soft tapping at the door. I opened it to find Logan standing there. He said that he was just checking to see if I'd been able to de-ice cream Ethan easily. I politely didn't let on that I realized it was a pretty weak excuse for knocking on my door. I also pretended not to notice that his eyes were riveted to the gap in my green silk robe that afforded him a clear view of my cleavage. I prayed that his line of vision didn't dip slightly to encompass something else.

"Chilly?" he asked with a flick of one eyebrow.

Damn. He had noticed. The smug grin on his face let me know that if I answered 'yes' that he'd know I was lying. However, I wasn't about to admit that just the sight of his well-muscled frame leaning against my door jam was enough to make my nipples erect, so I chose to ignore the remark.

"Was there something else you wanted beside checking on the cleanliness of my son's hair?" I asked instead.

"Depends on what you're offering," he replied cheekily.

Shit. I hadn't meant that to be a loaded question. Why did everything associated with Logan have to have a sexual connotation? Because the man was the walking talking definition of sex I mentally answered and then immediately chastised myself for once again allowing myself to fall into that same old trap. Goodbye intelligent, mature woman and hello idiotic, crushing teenager.

Just then Dani slithered past and interrupted the awkward reverie.

"Logan," she practically purred as she laid a hand on his shoulder, "some of us are going out for drinks. You simply must come with us. I won't take 'no' for an answer."

I used the distraction to shut the door in his face, effectively ending our conversation. Well, good for him I thought. Looks like he just might find a home for his erection, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Logan's POV**

I did go with the contingent to the club, but spent the entire evening arguing with Jubilee about Marie.

"That dick never liked me. From day one he accused me of wanting Jean."

"Which turned out to be prophetic," she replied cryptically.

"Red was a mistake, a momentary lapse in judgment and I've been paying for that one ever since. Scott hustled Marie away before I had a chance to straighten things out. It was none of his fucking business to keep her away from me," I grumbled as I slugged back my countless shot of whiskey. The bartender automatically refilled my glass.

"If memory serves me correctly, Marie was the one who didn't want you to know where she was and Scott was simply abiding by her wishes."

"Yeah, but he never suggested she try to resolve things with me," I retaliated, "That wasn't because he was being such a great friend to her, he was just being a complete bastard to me."

"Logan, the man is dead," Jubilee said in a shocked tone.

"Look, Jubes, I'm not gonna sit here and be a fucking hypocrite and pretend I just lost my best friend. Cyke and I never got along and never would've. He just went after her to stick it to me."

"That is so not true or he would've pursued her immediately," Jubilee replied, "From what I've been told, the relationship evolved slowly and in the end had nothing to do with either you or Jean. You just want to blame your own failure on Scott."

"As far as I'm concerned that prick stole six years of my life. Those kids should've been mine," I spat back. My grip on the glass was so tight, I thought I was gonna shatter it into a million fragments and waste a perfectly good shot.

"Well, they're not …so deal with it," she snapped back and got up from the table, which effectively ended the conversation.

Good thing I wasn't interested in picking up with Jubes where we'd left off two years ago. I tipped back the glass, relishing the burn as the whiskey slid down my throat and cursing the fact that my healing factor didn't allow me to ever get really and truly drunk. I decided I'd had enough of being social for one evening and headed outside to my bike without bothering to say goodbye. Fuck 'em.

I got back to the mansion and dragged my sorry ass back to my room where I stripped naked and not bothering to even pull on any boxers, climbed into bed and sank back against the pillows. I tossed and turned for a while, but not able to fall asleep, I decided to go to the gym and see if I could work off a little of this pent-up energy. Not wanting to get a lecture from Chuck about strolling around the school naked, I pulled on a pair of sweats.

When I arrived at the gym I decided to skip the workout and have a relaxing sauna instead. I quickly shed the sweats and wrapped a small white towel around my waist. I opened the door of the sauna and found Marie reclined on a towel on one of the slatted redwood benches – naked. Marie was naked! She had her eyes closed and apparently didn't hear me enter, so I just stood there staring at her. One leg was bent at the knee, her arms were down by her sides and her silky hair was fanned out around her head in a halo effect. Little beads of sweat glistened on her skin making it shimmer. I suddenly realized that I'd never seen her completely naked before. God, she was absolutely gorgeous. Having two kids hadn't ruined her body like it did for some women. Her stomach was still flat and her creamy skin was unmarred. Her pert breasts were capped with the most perfect-looking nipples I'd ever seen and the patch of hair between her legs had been waxed into a tidy little triangle. She was sheer perfection. I just stood there gazing at her, my cock rock hard. Scott had had the pleasure of that for six years, the lucky bastard. Then I felt a wave of guilt because I was jealous of a dead man.

"Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer," Marie's soft voice said, immediately breaking my concentration.

I thought fast and replied mischievously, "Really, you'd let me take a picture?"

Marie propped herself up on her elbows and fixed me with a look that was half pissed off and half amused. She didn't make any attempt to cover herself as I guess she figured the damage had already been done. Her eyes broke contact with mine, dropped to my chest and then roamed lower to catch my obvious erection. The little smile that creased at the corners of her mouth gave me just the opportunity I wanted. I unknotted the towel and let it drop to the floor. The little smile got bigger. I took one long stride, closed the small gap between us, and reached to gather her toward me. Her arms wrapped around my neck and I leaned down to latch onto those amazing lips that I'd often fantasized being wrapped around my cock. I licked at her soft lips, parting them to gain access to the warm recess beyond and soon our tongues were engaged in a heated duel.

My hands moved up her ribcage to cup her full breasts; flicking my thumbs over the nipples and feeling them peak instantly. I released her mouth to lick at a nipple before drawing it into my mouth and sucking gently. Marie moaned and threaded her fingers through my hair, holding me to her tighter. She whimpered as I released my hold on her nipple, only to sigh contently as I took the other one into my mouth and lavished it with the same attention. I then trailed a path of kisses down onto her stomach, dipping my tongue into her navel before moving lower. I eased her legs apart and ran my hands along her inner thighs in caressing circles as she shuddered in anticipation. The pads of my fingers on my left hand brushed over the damp curls, and then parted the soft folds until I touched her clit. She raised her hips slightly and I applied more pressure to the little pleasure button with my thumb as I slipped two fingers into her. I leaned forward and plied her neck with licking kisses as I pumped my fingers in and out of her, leisurely at first and then with more urgency as she convulsed harder. She moaned my name as she came and I felt my fingers get slick with the proof. I removed my fingers and licked them clean, then leaned down to taste her directly, stroking her with my tongue until she cried out my name and shattered in her second orgasm.

I sat up and looked down at her, watching as the pleasure rippled through her and taking great pride in the fact that I'd caused such a response. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, I moved over her and my cock replaced my mouth at her entrance. Not waiting for an invitation, I guided the head into her and entered her in one smooth thrust. She wrapped her legs around me and arched her back, which pushed me into her even deeper. Our hands caressed each other as we began to rock in a perfect rhythm as if we'd been lovers forever. It was further proof that we'd always belonged together. Our mouths were fused together, our tongues thrusting to mimic the movements of our lower bodies. She was like a fine cognac and I was drunk on sensation. I felt her split apart beneath me as she climaxed again and finally surrendered to my own release, declaring it as I did. I collapsed against her spent and satisfied. Not wanting to crush her, I flipped us over so that she was now on top straddling me.

Marie's hands were combing through my chest hair that had been dampened from the combination of the humidity of the sauna and the sweat from our heated lovemaking. I closed my eyes as I enjoyed the sensation of her exploring my chest with caressing touches. Suddenly, the hands on my chest seemed a lot smaller. I opened my eyes to find Sara sitting on my stomach peering down at me curiously. I'd been dreaming. I also had one hell of an erection, that unfortunately she'd noticed.

"What's that?"

I couldn't think of what to say. What was I gonna tell her …your mother does that to me. So I just lifted her off my stomach and sat up so the sheet wasn't tenting so obviously.

"Are you going somewhere with my mommy?" she asked curiously.

"Going somewhere?" I replied, puzzled and very uncomfortable by this point.

"You said, _'I'm coming, Marie.'_ Where were you going?" she asked innocently.

_Oh Christ. Think fast, Logan._

"We were going to the grocery store because we needed ... milk."

"And candy?" she asked hopefully, her eyes sparkling.

Good, she seemed to have bought that. I gotta remember to lock my door from now on. Meanwhile, Marie's day wasn't off to such a great start either.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: This was originally part of chapter 4, but I've decided to reformat some of the new chapters, so I've reposted this segment as chapter 5. **

**Marie's POV**

I'd woken up with an overwhelming sense of sadness and then realized why – it was my anniversary, or rather, it should've been my anniversary. I'd awoken before the alarm had gone off, but hadn't bothered switching the button to the 'off' position so while I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth the radio clicked on and the voice of Faith Hill filled the room with the melancholic tones of "There You'll Be" from the Pearl Harbor soundtrack – the song that played when Kate Beckinsale was remembering Josh Hartnett who'd been killed – it was sadly appropriate for the day. I walked out of the bathroom and curled up in the rocking chair that Scott had bought for me when Sara was born and hugged my knees to my chest as first the lump formed in my throat and then the tears spilled down my cheeks.

When I think back  
>On these times<br>And the dreams  
>We left behind<br>I'll be glad 'cause  
>I was blessed to get<br>To have you in my life  
>When I look back<br>On these days  
>I'll look and see your face<br>You were right there for me

In my dreams  
>I'll always see your soul<br>Above the sky  
>In my heart<br>There always be a place  
>For you for all my life<p>

I'll keep a part  
>Of you with me<br>And everywhere I am  
>There you'll be<p>

Well you showed me  
>How it feels<br>To feel the sky  
>Within my reach<br>And I always  
>Will remember all<br>The strength you  
>Gave to me<br>Your love made me  
>Make it through<br>Oh, I owe so much to you  
>You were right there for me<p>

'Cause I always saw in you  
>My light, my strength<br>And I want to thank you  
>Now for all the ways<br>You were right there for me  
>You were right there for me<br>For always

Most guys can't seem to remember even one anniversary, but Scott liked to celebrate *mini* anniversaries throughout the year in addition to our wedding anniversary – like the anniversary of the day we first met, when we shared our first kiss and when we made love for the first time. He'd always found a way to signify each of those milestones in a special way, too. For the first anniversary of our first kiss he bought me a beautiful Lalique crystal vase filled with Hershey's chocolate kisses and one year for the anniversary of the first time we'd made love he'd rented a cabin in the Poconos so that we could recreate that magical night. One year we'd sailed around the Aegean Sea on a private yacht and another year we'd played 'castaway' on a private island in the South Pacific. I knew that he would've had something special planned for our wedding anniversary this year. I wasn't supposed to be sitting here alone in our room; I was supposed to be somewhere exotic making love with my husband. Instead I was facing our anniversary without him. I figured my day couldn't possibly get any worse. Just then Logan walked into my room with Sara in his arms. Okay, so I was wrong.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I snapped as I bolted out of the rocker.

Sensing my mood, Sara wiggled out of Logan's arms and wisely took off for her own bedroom.

"Sorry," Logan mumbled apologetically and I immediately felt like such a bitch for jumping down his throat. I was about to offer my own apology for barking at him when I noticed where his gaze was aimed. I looked down and realized with the sunlight streaming in through the French doors that my nightgown was diaphanous and he was staring at my very visible breasts. So instead of feeling regretful I was back to being pissed off. He actually had the gall to lick his lips and that's when I lost it. I picked up the nearest thing within reach and threw it at him. The cordless phone narrowly whizzed past his head, hit the wall behind him and fell to the floor in several now useless pieces.

"Hey, that almost got me," he said incredulously.

"Lucky for you I have shitty aim," I retorted and then inexplicably started laughing.

"Are you on some kinda medication?" he asked and I just laughed even harder.

Logan decided that a good way to get me to stop laughing was to grab a hold of me caveman-style and plant a kiss on my mouth. I let out a surprised squeak and that was enough of an opening for him to slide his tongue into my mouth. For a moment I found myself responding to the heat of the kiss before I realized what we were doing and pushed him off roughly.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded as I touched my kiss-swollen lips.

"What? It worked didn't it?" he answered with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Is doing something sexual your answer to everything?"

"Christ, Marie, I just kissed you. It's not like I sliced off that flimsy excuse for a nightgown, threw you onto the bed and made wild, passionate love to you."

My cheeks colored as I envisioned that particular scenario and I suddenly wanted to kick him somewhere it would hurt.

"You know you could at least wait until Scott's body had cooled off before coming onto me. If you think one kiss is gonna make me fall over onto my back with my legs in the air for you, then you're sadly mistaken."

"Speaking of misconceptions. You think I came back for you? That I'd just fall at your feet and beg you to let me be a part of your life again? Who's got the ego problem here, Marie? Maybe I didn't come back for you. Maybe … maybe I came back for Jeannie."

He knew that would hurt.

"Fine! You know where she hangs out. Go to her. Go fuck her hard enough so that people in New Jersey can hear her having an orgasm. I don't give a shit."

"Maybe I will. I got plenty of women I can get a little *exercise* with," he said as he turned to walk out.

"I'm glad that nothing ever happened between us, Logan, because I'd hate to be relegated to the status of one of your many meaningless conquests. At least I was special to Scott."

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned back toward me with an angry hazel-colored glare.

"Scott again. Let me call the Vatican and have them send you an application for fucking sainthood for him."

"That's right, he was a saint compared to you. Don't you ever say anything negative about him, especially not in front of me or his children."

I figured the deliberate mention of Sara and Ethan being Scott's would cut him to the core and from the wounded look on his face, I was correct.

"Don't worry, Marie, I'd never do anything to tarnish the image of perfect Scott. I know I could never come close to ever filling his shoes. I couldn't possibly ever forget that fact, seeing as how you remind me constantly."

Logan turned again to stomp out of the room, but threw in one parting shot.

"Just remember one thing about your precious Scott; he was the one who ultimately let you down, Marie. He was the one who made the dumbass mistake and didn't come home."

And with that he left the room and slammed the door behind him.

"Bastard!" I yelled at the closed door and then mentally kicked myself, because as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Then I burst into tears.


	6. Chapter 6

**Marie's POV**

Ever since the confrontation with Logan a week earlier, I'd been studiously avoiding him, which considering that he'd been busy with X-Men business hadn't been terribly difficult. He'd been avoiding me too it seemed because he hadn't been showing up for meals all week. Jubilee joked that he was probably just stalking his food in the adjacent woods. Kitty replied she'd like to be eaten by him, which in turn caused laughter to ripple through the other women and disgruntled groans to come from the men.

Just then the object of discussion entered the dining room wearing a t-shirt with the appropriate wording ' Needs constant supervision'

Dani leaned over and whispered something in Kitty's ear.

"Say, Logan, I need someone really bad. Are you really bad?" she asked naughtily.

Logan just grinned and I rolled my eyes. Not wanting to sit here and watch them all flirt shamelessly with him, I stood up to leave.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked, his crooked grin aimed directly at me.

"Your sexy little smile isn't going to work on me, Logan." I replied defiantly.

He started to say something when I held up my hand to silence him as I swept by him.

"Save your breath …you'll need it to blow up your date," I said while managing to maintain a straight face.

"Speaking of blowing things." I heard Lorna say as I made my exit.

Later that morning the kids and I were in the grocery store where I met a really nice guy courtesy of my son and his habit of throwing things. I was putting some oranges in a baggie when I noticed that Ethan had grabbed a Golden Delicious apple and was just about to take a bite.

"No, no, sweetie, mommy has to pay for that first and then we have to take it home and wash it," I explained.

"Me hungwy now," he responded and went to take a bite anyway.

"Ethan, mommy said 'no'," I said as I went to reach for the apple.

Ethan decided he wasn't going to cooperate and hand it over nicely, so he launched it into the air, beaming an innocent man right in the eye, who'd been unwarily bagging some grapes. I ran over to him to apologize.

"I am so very sorry about that," I started to say.

"It's okay," he replied as he carefully rubbed at his injured eye, "I really don't need two eyes, anyway."

He removed his hand and I could see that it was going to leave a nasty shiner.

"Oh God," I said absolutely mortified as I brought my hand up to my mouth.

"That bad, huh?"

"I'm really sorry."

"That's some arm you got there, kiddo," he directed at Ethan and then to me he said, "You should sign him up to play Little League when he's old enough."

"Yeah, just what I need to do, encourage him to throw things," I chuckled.

"Well, at least it would give him a target besides innocent shoppers."

"True," I said, then asked, "Say, can I buy you a cup of coffee as an apology?"

"Sure, why not – my health insurance policy is in good standing," he replied with a broad smile.

He really was very handsome I finally noticed, despite the impending black eye. I guessed that he was in his mid-thirties, probably a businessman of some variety with a nice athletic build showcased in a pair of khaki pants and a black shirt. What I didn't realize, but would later be pointed out to me, was his more than passing resemblance to Scott. But for now I instinctively looked down to check the appearance of my own attire, a pale pink sundress. Jubes would've been proud of me for not going out looking like, as she put it, an old house frau. I had my hair piled up in a loose knot at the back of my head with a few strands purposely pulled free, which gave me a sexy tussled look that Scott had always loved.

"I hope you don't mind McDonald's, but I really need to feed them," I said indicating Sara and Ethan.

"Sounds good to me. I'm done here, so I'll check out and meet you at the McDonald's across the street. I'm Ken, by the way," he replied as he held out his right hand. Not exactly sure why, but I stole a quick glance at his left hand and was relieved to see the absence of a wedding ring.

"Marie," I responded as I shook his hand, "and this is my daughter, Sara and the future major league pitcher is Ethan."

We checked out, placed the groceries in the car, and grateful that I didn't have anything frozen, drove across the street to the McDonald's. Ken was already there when we pulled up. I unbuckled Ethan from his car seat and noticed that Sara had grabbed a hold of the bottom of Ken's shirt and was already pulling him toward the door.

"Guess she's hungry," he said with a bemused smile.

"There's a new Happy Meal toy today," Sara informed him as she tugged harder on the bottom of his shirt.

"Come on," I told Ken, "you don't think anyone actually comes here for the food, do you?"

"Hmmm, let's see…filet mignon at a five-star restaurant or a Big Mac," he said making the 'scales' motion with his hands, "Decisions, decisions."

I laughed. I think I could really like this guy. He was good-looking, funny, and not afraid of my children to boot. We went in and placed our order and even though I owed Ken the coffee, he insisted lunch was his treat. We sat down at one of the tables in the children's playground area and the kids quickly inhaled their Happy Meals and then they were off to play as Ken and I sipped at our coffees. We watched as Ethan charged around with enough energy to generate power for a small town.

"He must keep you and your husband on your toes," Ken commented.

"I'm a widow. My husband died a few months ago," I replied, then added, "I think that's the first time I've used the 'W' word out loud."

"I know what you mean. I lost my wife to ovarian cancer a year and a half ago."

"I'm so sorry."

"So am I. Gillian was a hellava woman. I watched her suffer for nearly three years. When she finally died I was devastated at losing her and at the same time relieved her pain was finally over. To say it was confusing is an understatement."

"My husband Scott was killed in an accident."

"I watched Gillian fade away slowly. She died in my arms on Christmas Day," he said and I noticed his eyes had misted over.

"Well, at least you got to say goodbye, I never got that opportunity," I said quietly as I felt the tears well up in my own eyes.

"Wow, this is morbid," Ken said as he handed me a napkin, "and you are way too beautiful to be crying."

"How long were you married?" I asked as I dabbed at my eyes with the napkin.

"Ten years," he answered.

"Do you have any children?"

"No, we were too busy with our careers. You're lucky," he nodded indicating Ethan and Sara, "you have a little part of him with you always."

"I try to keep that in mind when Ethan does things like throwing apples at strangers."

"Well, we've been sitting here for," Ken paused to glance at his watch, "thirty minutes and he hasn't launched anything else at me, so far."

"He hit the terrible two's with a vengeance. The throwing things just started recently."

"It could be worse. I have a friend whose son had a thing for matches. He never knew when he got home every night what small fire the kid had started that day."

"I just hope that Ethan finds something a little less damaging to do sooner rather than later. Meanwhile, we're hiding all the antiques."

"Ugh, this has to be the world's worst coffee," Ken grimaced as he took another slurp.

"I don't think people come to McDonald's for the coffee, either," I responded with a small smile.

"How about you let me buy you a real cup of coffee, like at the end of a nice dinner perhaps?" he asked.

I hesitated and he continued, "I'll even throw in dessert. I know this restaurant that serves a killer hot fudge cake."

"I don't know. It's …it's …just that I haven't…."

"Gone out since …" Ken interrupted, "I understand. The first time I went out was really difficult. But you have to dip your toes back in the dating pool sometime. Come on, Marie, it's just dinner."

"Okay," I replied.

"Good. Shall we say Friday around seven thirty?"

"Sounds great. Are you familiar with the Xavier School for the Gifted?" I asked.

"That's the fancy school on Greymalkin Lane, right?"

"That's the one. I'm a teacher at the school and we also live there," I said as I jotted down my phone number on another napkin.

"Very nice place to live," he remarked as he pulled out a business card, wrote his home phone number on the back and handed it to me. _Dr. Ken Abbott ~ Cardiologist._

"It's been good to be surrounded by so many people who care about us. It's helped a lot."

"Then you're very lucky," he replied.

Ken walked us out to our car and after I'd strapped Ethan into his car seat he leaned in and told him to take care of that arm.

"Wow, you've met my kids and you're still not afraid to go out with me. You're a very brave man."

"I've climbed Everest."

"You'll probably find that was less scary."

And we both laughed.

"Until Friday then," he said as he gave a final wave to the kids and walked over to his car, a brand new Jaguar.

When we got back to the mansion Sara ran ahead of me yelling, "Mommy's got a date, mommy's got a date." Which of course piqued Logan's interest.

"What's this about a date?"

"I have a date Friday night with a guy I met at the grocery store. He's really nice, you'd hate him."

"Marie, I don't think it's a good idea that you go out with a man you picked up at the store. He could be a serial killer for all you know."

"Well then, I'll be sure to update my will before I leave and make you Sara and Ethan's legal guardian. You will continue to raise them in the same religion, right?"

"Very funny. So, you'll go out with a possible mass-murderer, but you won't give me the time of day?" he said as his nostrils flared.

"It's 1:35," I said glancing at my watch, "There, I gave you the time of day. Happy now?"

What was it about Logan that every conversation turned into an argument? Not in the mood, I turned to walk away.

"It's been six years, when are you gonna stop punishing me?" he asked.

"I'm not punishing you, Logan. Not everything is about you, you know," I told him as I left without giving him any further opportunity to say anything else.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to **HaveNoMercy** in honor of her birthday today. Not only is she a cherished friend but she's also a really good writer ... so check out her X-Men fics.

**Marie's POV**

On Friday I was having second thoughts about going out with Ken – feeling as if I was somehow cheating on Scott. Jubilee wouldn't let me cancel, saying that it was just dinner and not like I was pole-vaulting myself over the wall into a men's prison yard.

When Ken came to pick me up he was grilled good-naturedly by a contingent of my well-meaning friends with Logan noticeably absent from the throng. Jubilee leaned into me and whispered something about 'my type', but I didn't have the time to get into a discussion about it. After reassuring my friends that he would return me safely, Ken managed to steer me out of the front door, where he gallantly opened the car door for me, which impressed Kitty and Jubilee who stood watching us. As we pulled away Kitty gave me the thumbs up sign while Jubes pantomimed what I assumed were Scott's concussive blasts.

At the restaurant we produced photos and shared fond memories of our respective spouses. It was comforting and not as awkward talking about Scott as I'd thought it might be. We'd both had good marriages and were worried that we'd never be able to recapture what we'd once had. Then Ken related some of his dating horror stories that included one woman who asked him if he'd 'found the light' and then spent the rest of the date trying to 'save his soul', another who turned out to be a call girl and how the *date* ended up costing him $100 even though he didn't have sex with her – that would've cost him an additional $400. There was the woman who insisted on bringing her pet snake along on the date and another who turned out to be a member of a militant animal rights group, who threw a conniption fit when he ordered a steak and started screaming at him in the middle of the restaurant. Then there was the recent divorcee who spent the entire date telling him what shits men were and his most recent encounter was with a woman who asked him if she could videotape them having sex to put on her pay-per-view website. I didn't know whether to be completely horrified or laugh, but I did suggest he write it all down so that he could submit his misadventures to a magazine someday.

"So what's your story?" he asked, "Any strange quirks – like turning into a bat or a werewolf every full moon?"

"Well, I'm a mutant," I told him, half expecting him to jump up and run out of the restaurant screaming, leaving me stuck with the bill.

"Yeah, kinda figured that when you told me where you lived. The school's real purpose is the worst kept secret in Westchester County," he replied casually while remaining seated.

"Oh," was all I was able to get out.

"I have no prejudices, Marie."

And he just scored two more brownie points.

"You'd be surprised at how most people do," I replied, my voice a mix of sadness and resignation.

"I'm not most people," he told me. Then, his curiosity piqued, he nonchalantly asked, "So what's your *gift*?"

So I explained the whole 'life-sucking but under control' thing to him and when I was done he took my hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb and told me that he was glad I had control because it would be a shame for such beautiful skin to go untouched, which made me blush a red deeper than the wine we were drinking. We shared the dessert and he was right, they did serve a killer hot fudge cake. We lingered for a little while longer over a refill of our coffee, and then he drove me home where we stood by his car saying our goodnights. Little did I know that we had an audience.


	8. Chapter 8

This chapter is rated M for a scene at the end.

**Logan's POV**

I decided to open my window to get some fresh air in my room and I was just in time to see Marie coming home from her date with Ben or whatever the hell his name was. They were standing by the side of his car, a brand new Jag, and talking. Marie was wearing a black sleeveless dress that was clinging in all the right places and was dipped low in the front to show off a decent amount of cleavage that the jerk couldn't seem to take his eyes off of. He cupped one her elbows and leaned in to whisper something in her ear, which must've been amusing 'cause she tipped back her head and laughed. Maybe he just told her he had a three-inch dick. He had one hand on her hip and the other hand was now caressing her cheek, which was way too friendly for a first date in my opinion. He leaned in closer to her now and it looked like he was gonna …that bastard kissed her! My knuckles were itching and I wanted to unsheath the claws and teach Mr. Yuppie a thing or six about manners. The fact that Marie had now wrapped her arms around his neck and was kissing him back just added to my anger. I had a feeling Chuck's gonna have to have some repairs done to the walls in my room again. By the time I looked back out the window, the jerk was driving away and Marie was waving goodbye. Ha, guess it didn't end quite the way he'd hoped. That's right, asshole, it's a cold shower for you tonight.

A few minutes later I heard the click-click of Marie's heels on the polished wood floor in the hallway as she passed my room on the way to her own. Without thinking, I opened my door and caught up to her in two easy strides. I grabbed a hold of her and slammed her up against the wall none too gently.

"Have fun with Ben?" I hissed, my face mere inches from hers.

"It's Ken," she corrected, "If you're gonna get your boxers all in a knot, at least get his name right."

"Ken, Ben, who gives a shit, he's a jerk."

Damn she reeked of him. It's moments like this when I hate my enhanced senses. She didn't say anything else, just fixed me with a pissed-off look. I closed the gap between us and kissed her hard. Instead of shoving me away as I'd expected, she kissed me back, her tongue came out to swipe across my lips. My own tongue went out to meet hers and soon we were licking at each other. My hands released her wrists and I started running them up and down her body, finally coming to rest on her breasts. One of her hands was on the back of my head and the other was caressing my ass. I released her mouth to lick at her neck and lifted her legs and wrapped them around my waist as I rocked my pelvis into hers, my hard-on obvious. She gave a little wiggle and ground herself against me harder. We made out like that for a few minutes – mouths and bodies pressed together tightly. I'd closed my eyes and buried my face in her neck, breathing in her scent while trying to filter out the other guy's.

"Take me back to your room, Logan, where I want you to fuck me hard and make me yours," she whispered against my ear.

That didn't sound right, Marie was never that crude. I snapped my eyes open and discovered I was still at the window watching her wave goodbye to the jerk. Shit. It had been just another fantasy.

A few minutes later I heard her actually walk past my room and debated whether or not to attempt to turn that little fantasy into reality. I took too long deciding because I heard the door to her suite of rooms open and then immediately close again. A few minutes later, presumably after she'd checked on the kids, I heard the sounds of her moving around in her bathroom preparing for bed. I tried not to think about Marie and bed in the same sentence, especially after I'd once overheard her tell Jubilee and Kitty that she sometimes slept in the nude. Images of a naked Marie between satin sheets flashed through my brain and I instantly got hard. Guess Ken won't be the only one taking a cold shower tonight. I heard the rustle of her sheets and the click of her lamp. I turned to go take that cold shower when I heard another noise coming from her room. A soft noise. A soft moaning noise. Shit, Marie was masturbating.

Against my better judgment, I continued to listen as she pleasured herself, wondering if she was thinking about that asshole doing things to her as she brought herself off. I could either get in the shower and jack off as I'd originally planned or I could go down there and see if I could help her out. I opened my door and stalked down the hall before I lost my nerve. I turned the handle of her door. It was unlocked, not that it would've stopped me if it had been locked, just slowed me down a little. I entered the room quietly, walked through the living room and into her bedroom. I caught my breath as I saw her lying on the bed; the sheets tossed aside, the moonlight streaming in the window giving me a clear view of what she was doing. I walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, which made her stop and open her eyes when she realized she was no longer alone.

"LOGAN!"

Before she had a chance to say anything else, I said, "Let me do that for you, Marie."

She went to protest, but I leaned down, spread her legs and dipped my face between her thighs before she could react. She moved to shove me away, but I swiped my tongue over her and she immediately stopped.

"Oh God," she moaned and I knew I had her.

I bathed her with my tongue as she writhed beneath my touch and moaned my name.

"LoganLoganLogan," she whimpered as she clutched at my hair.

Christ she tasted good and I licked at her until she came in a gush of wetness. I continued to suck on her clit as she rode out her orgasm.

"Mommy, are you okay?" came a little voice.

Marie let out a scream and bolted upright, mortified that her daughter had caught us with my face down between her legs.

She got off the bed quickly, pulled on the robe that had been laying across the chair next to the bed and scooted her daughter back to her own room.

"What was Logan doing to you, mommy?" I heard Sara ask.

Marie must've thought fast because she replied, "Do you remember whenever you or Ethan get hurt and I kiss it better?"

I heard Sara say, "Uh huh."

"Well, Mommy hurt herself and Logan was kissing it better," she explained very calmly, all things considered.

"Oh," Sara said, "so that's why you were making all those noises."

A few minutes later Marie returned looking decidedly mortified.

"Marie," I started to say, but was cut off.

"Logan, please just go."

I walked up to her and ran my fingers over her cheek and watched as she swallowed hard. Then, even though I was tempted to carry her back to bed and make her scream my name, without a word I turned around and walked out of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Marie's POV**

The next morning Sara didn't mention anything about what she'd witnessed. Apparently, she'd bought my 'kiss it better' explanation. I just hope my luck holds and she doesn't decide to bring it up at an inopportune moment – like in the dining room tonight.

Charles and his lady friend Moira were taking Sara and Ethan to the Central Park Zoo and then to a children's art exhibit at the Guggenheim. After breakfast I'd kissed the kids good-bye and was now returning to our suite of rooms. I intended to take a shower, then find Logan and set him straight about his habit of barging into my room uninvited.

No sooner had I closed the door than he came bursting through it.

"Jesus, Logan, another thirty seconds and I would've been naked," I informed him as I hastily re-knotted my silk robe.

"Want me to come back in another minute?" he asked with a lift of one eyebrow and an amused grin.

I wanted to slap him. Hard. And then rip his clothes off and do really rude things to him and then with him. Talk about confusing.

I didn't answer quickly enough by his standards, which apparently was all of ten seconds because he was now advancing on me. The 'wearing only a thong under my robe' me. The thong that was now damp – that no doubt he could smell. Damn his enhanced senses. Why couldn't his mutation have been something like the ability to get a clue? I wanted to have a serious discussion with him about his disregard for boundaries – damp panties aside – and here he was looking all kinds of dangerous and sexy and I was beginning to forget that I was pissed-off at him. But, then, that was probably the point.

Before I had a chance to do or say anything he had me on the floor and was unknotting the sash of my robe. The prominent bulge in his jeans, along with the wild look in his eyes and low grunting made me realize I was no longer dealing with Logan, but the Wolverine – who was about to take me on the floor of my living room.

"Logan," I said softly as I put my hand up to his cheek.

He'd apparently tuned me out because he ignored my attempt to break him out of his current state. I tried another approach – I craned my head up enough to place my lips against his. It took a couple of heartbeats before he responded – returning the kiss and deepening it. I could try and justify it to myself by claiming I went along with it because I wanted to be certain he was back to normal, but the truth was that I was enjoying the kiss. I even slid my hands under his shirt and up to roam over his pectoral muscles. Oh God, I've wanted this man since I was seventeen years old and I knew I could finally have him. But while my body was screaming for him, my mind refused to cooperate. The memories of how he'd dismissed my feelings for him as well as disregarding Scott's relationship with Jean came flooding back. Even though that one incident led to Scott and I ending up together and creating two beautiful children – something I wouldn't trade for anything – the road there had been a painful journey and one I couldn't forget with a quick roll around on the living room floor.

Satisfied that I'd calmed him down and was no longer in imminent danger, I pushed him off of me … and then burst into tears.

"Marie … baby, what's wrong?"

"I can't do this …" I began.

"You know I want you," he replied and then giving an obvious inhale he added, "And I know you want me."

"I also want French Vanilla ice cream every day, but it doesn't mean I'm gonna indulge that craving either," I answered with a sniff.

"Making love with me will give you more pleasure than a pint of ice cream and it won't go straight to your hips when it's over," he said, his voice a mixture of mischievousness and confidence.

"Why, you arrogant …" I snapped at him as I stood up.

The phone ringing stopped me from completing that thought.

"Hello."

"Hi, Marie." It was Ken.

"Hey, Ken," I answered in my most 'I hope I sound perfectly casual' tone.

"The angiogram I had scheduled this morning just needed a stint put in, so I got through earlier than expected. I'm going with the realtor to look at new office space and wondered if you'd come along and give me your opinion?"

Needing the perfect excuse to extrapolate myself from the awkward situation with Logan I quickly replied, "I'd love to. Give me an hour?"

"Sure. See you then."

"Why are you seeing that guy?" Logan asked testily after I'd hung up.

"Because he's not you," I blurted out.

"No kidding, Princess Points-Out-The-Obvious."

"Look, Ken's a nice guy. I realize that irritates you to no end. You should be happy that I'm not going out with a jerk."

"That's a matter of perspective."

"He's…he's…" I stumbled to find the right word.

"Safe?" Logan offered, "You've had safe already – try living a little dangerously."

"I can't afford to live dangerously, I have Sara and Ethan to think about," I reminded him.

"And I wanna help with that. I couldn't love those kids any more if they were mine."

"I know you do – and you make a great uncle. But let's be honest you're not ready to be a full-time dad and you're definitely not husband material."

"Isn't part of the job criteria to put your wife and kids above everything else? You have to know I'd kill for you – I'd die for you."

"And that's great, if we were being attacked by the Brotherhood or covert government operatives on a daily basis – but it's not a necessary attribute for day-to-day life. Ken is kind and he likes the kids…"

"I love the kids. Hell, I wish they were my kids."

"He can provide stability."

"I can do stability."

"Don't make me laugh. You're about as stable as the San Andreas fault line."

"So that's it – Ken's kind, likes the kids and is nice and stable. Funny that you didn't mention love – not even once."

I go silent and look down at the floor.

"That's it – you don't want to love anyone else. So if you're with Ken then you don't have to worry that maybe what you had with Scott wasn't the big once in a lifetime love affair that you've envisioned it was – you can still hang onto that illusion."

"You don't understand, Logan, and you never will," I implore, "What I had with Scott wasn't something because I couldn't have you. He wasn't just a passing phase until who I really wanted decided to love me back. It wasn't an illusion. It was real and it was genuine and when he died a part of me died with him."

"What are you afraid of, Marie – that somehow you'll be betraying Scott if you dared to love again? Even he wasn't that big of an asshole that he'd expect that kind of loyalty."

"Of course everyone knows what a big authority you are on loyalty."

"I can be loyal."

"Who are you kidding? I'd be worried that every time I was at the mall for too long I'd come home and find you with somebody else," I retorted with just a tad more venom than was necessary.

"Stop punishing me for what happened between me and Jean. That wasn't about love or feelings."

"Well, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know that. I think I would've preferred that you did have feelings for her, because it would tell me that you weren't being a completely callous bastard. So then why did you do it, or should I say do her?"

"You were too young and she was just a temporary distraction."

"Are you trying to tell me that you really wanted me?"

"Yeah."

"So screwing Jean was about your great love for me? That's a funny way of showing it. I'm sure glad that Scott never felt compelled to prove his love by climbing onto Jubilee or Kitty."

"I made a mistake. I can't change the past," he said quietly.

Thinking of my children, I reply, "I don't want to change the past."

Seeing the look on Logan's face, I clarify, "I could live without catching you boning Jean – but that betrayal did set me on the road that eventually led to Sara and Ethan. And I wouldn't undo their existence for anything."

"I wouldn't wish them away either," he said genuinely.

The situation was defusing itself and I found myself not wanting to let my guard down, because with Logan that could easily lead me down a dangerous path.

I tried to think of a reply that would bait him into saying something shitty, so that I'd be justified in tossing him out, "Even though they're Scott's?" I said challengingly.

"They're also a part of you. I try and keep that in mind," he replied.

Damn him. I couldn't act wounded and insulted when he was being noble.

"I have somewhere I need to be," I reminded him, "Let yourself out."

After he'd quietly retreated, I shakily got ready to meet Ken. A perfectly lovely, kind man – that I didn't really want. I was so screwed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Marie's POV**

The realtor did a stellar job of selecting office suites – and by the third location Ken's practice had a new home. It was late enough in the afternoon that a celebratory cocktail wasn't inappropriate.

"Of course Logan would hit the Jack anytime, 'It's 5 o'clock somewhere in the world' being his excuse," I observed as I took a sip of my martini.

Ken sighed heavily and took a long, slow sip of his own Scotch.

"What?" I asked in confusion.

"It's nothing," he replied without looking at me.

"Well, it's obviously something," I insisted, "You've hardly said a word since we got here. If I wanted a one-sided conversation, where I'm doing all the talking and the other person is just grunting replies, I could be at home talking to …"

"Logan," he interrupted, a bit sharper than I felt was necessary.

Guess I must've mentioned Logan's irritating habit of answering like a Neanderthal instead of an actual human being – but there was no need to be testy about it.

Before I had a chance to say anything Ken continued, "Are you even capable of going five whole minutes without invoking his name?"

My deer-in-the-headlights expression meant I didn't have a quick enough comeback, so he added, "Seriously, Marie, you ought to time yourself. It's LoganLoganLogan. Constantly. I've never considered myself a jealous man, but I'd like your attention to be on me – not some guy you claim is a pain in your ass and yet occupies most of your thoughts."

"I don't …" I started to say in defense, but he cut me off.

"Yes, you do. Maybe you don't even realize it, but you say his name … a lot. It's Logan this and Logan that. I was worried I'd be competing with the memory of your husband, but …"

This time I cut him off, "Don't go there," I warned gently.

"Why? Afraid to face the truth?" he asked – his tone much calmer as the exasperation dissipated.

"The only truth in regards to … Logan," I began – now hesitant to even say his name out loud, "is that …" And I couldn't finish that sentence because I didn't actually know what the truth was when it came to him. Well, other than the man was, is and always will be a complication in my life. I sighed in defeat.

"Do you love him?" Ken asked.

"What?" I replied in shock. Nobody had asked me that loaded question in a long time.

"Do you love him?" he repeated slowly.

"I had a crush on him when I was seventeen," I answered honestly, "But he chose someone else – and eventually I moved on."

"And had a wonderful marriage, which doesn't necessarily preclude you from carrying a torch for your first love."

"Well, technically my 'first love' was this guy named David, who I put into a coma when my mutation manifested," I clarified. But what I was really doing was an imaginary dance around a theoretical bush, "I told you, Logan was just a crush. It was never love."

I was beginning to regret telling him about my history with Logan.

"Really?"

If I'd managed to convince myself that, then why can't I achieve the same result with everyone else? Because apparently I'm floating up the River of Denial – in a rowboat without a paddle.

I sighed in frustration. I couldn't blame Ken for being upset with my apparently-not-as-suppressed-as-I'd-thought obsession with all things Wolverine. I wanted to kick myself, kick Logan – and then scream loud enough that it would make Siryn jealous.

"I think you're afraid to acknowledge that you love him … so you're looking for a distraction," Ken continued gently, "I like you, Marie. A lot. But I don't want to be anybody's temporary someone."

"I like you too … a lot," I told him honestly. Because the truth was I did like him, but I wasn't in love with him. Pieces of my heart had already been claimed by two other men.

Cocktail hour was over – and so was our relationship.

When I got home I sought out Charles for some advice. I found him in his private study and requested a few minutes of his time.

"Boy trouble?" he inquired as he gestured toward the couch.

"With a capital 'T'," I responded as I walked over and dropped down onto it.

I sunk into the dark chocolate-colored leather and was immediately comforted by its softness and smell. I'd always had an appreciation for leather … this couch, my favorite Chanel handbag, Scott's uniform, Logan's jacket. Hmm, maybe Ken was right, as I can't seem to go for more than a few minutes without having some Logan-connected thought.

LoganLoganLoganLogan. It was like his name was on an endless loop that was slowly going to drive me insane.

Charles raised an eyebrow and appeared to be losing a battle to suppress a smirk.

"Was I projecting?" I asked almost rhetorically.

"I *heard* you all the way from the foyer," he replied.

"Okay then, I guess I just need to give you the Reader's Digest version of the evening. Ken said that I talk about Logan all the time, which maybe I do, I didn't think so. But Ken thinks it's because I have feelings for Logan that I won't acknowledge …"

Charles held his hands up and said, "Whoa. Marie, take a breath."

"I'm sorry. Was I rambling?"

"Just a little," he responded holding up his right hand and pinching two of the fingers together,

"It's just that … Logan. Ugh! Why does everything in my life circle back to him?"

Charles opened his mouth to reply, but I just kept talking.

"I'm so confused," I confessed and sunk my head into my hands.

"Do you remember what happened with Hayley?" Charles asked.

I looked back up. "Of course. Why?"

"I told Logan that he sabotaged that relationship because he didn't want anyone to replace you in his heart, and Hayley was becoming dangerously close to accomplishing that."

"Okay. So what has that got to do with what's going on now?" I asked – completely perplexed at where he was heading with this particular train of thought.

"Ken is your Hayley," he stated simply.

I just sat there quietly, allowing that analysis to sink in.

Breaking the silence, I inquired, "So who was Ken supposed to be replacing … Scott or Logan?"

"You tell me," he replied.

I hesitated … because I wasn't sure of the answer.

"Scott was the one I loved. With Logan, it was just a crush," I finally said as I unconsciously petted the soft leather.

"Really? I thought only Jean ever considered it just a crush," he said – his amusement obvious.

I shot him a teasing death glare that packed no real heat.

"Even Scott accepted that a little piece of your heart always belonged to Logan," he continued in a more serious vein.

Mentioning Scott's awareness of my connection to Logan made the guilt rise up.

Either I was projecting again or it was plainly written all over my face because Charles reassured me that I shouldn't deny my feelings for Logan out of loyalty to Scott. That loving someone else wouldn't diminish what I'd had with my husband.

We talked for another hour – and when I finally walked out of the office, I felt better than I had in a long time.

I skipped dinner – allowing Kitty and Jubilee to take Sara and Ethan to Chuck E. Cheese so that I could be alone to reflect on the day's events. I'd walked away from what I thought could've been an almost perfect relationship – one that might've even eventually come pretty close to what I'd had with Scott.

Instead, I'm sitting alone on a bench by the lake.

Ken hadn't been exaggerating about Logan. I did invoke his name a lot. I was probably the only one who'd failed to notice how obsessed I was with the man. Well, considering how snappy, sarcastic and generally bitchy I was to him; it's likely that Logan didn't realize it either.

I let out an audible sigh and then practically jumped out of my skin when Logan stepped into my line of vision and said, "Hi."

"Good God, were you a Ninja in a previous life?" I managed to get out, "Quit sneaking up on me."

"Hey, it's not my fault your combat skills are rusty," he replied with a grin.

And there was that smugness that I wanted to wipe off his face with a slap … or a kiss. As usual, I was confused by how I ought to react to him.

Without waiting for an invitation, he dropped down next to me and took a long pull off his cigar.

In an effort to avoid any real conversation, I waved my hand in the air and fake coughed.

"We're outside!" Logan said, or technically whined.

"It's still blowing in my face," I retorted – adding another exaggerated choking sound.

"Fine," he admitted in defeat and tossed the stogie into the water.

"Thanks for polluting the lake," I told him.

"It does kinda look like a turd," he replied with a chuckle, noting the cigar bobbing along on the surface.

"You're so gross."

"Enough with the bullshit small-talk," he answered, "Why are you really parked on the bench of sobs?"

"I broke up with Ken," I stated bluntly – too tired and not in the mood to beat around the bush and play 20 questions.

"Finally," he said, not even attempting to suppress a big smile.

"You don't have to be so happy about it," I said, quietly instead of snapping at him as usual.

He reached over and tucked a strand of platinum behind my ear and said, "I'm sorry you're hurting."

The tears I'd been holding back were now starting to make my vision blurry and I dropped my head to avoid looking at him.

Logan paused for a moment before saying, "I love you. I always have, you know that right?"

I raised watery brown eyes to his hazel ones and replied, "I know. And I've always loved you too."

"It's not too late for us, Marie."

I honestly wasn't sure how to answer that, so I just sat there in silence.

Logan, who isn't exactly known for his patience, didn't wait for more than a couple of heartbeats before continuing.

"Scott Summers was your past – and I promise to honor that – and keep his memory alive for Sara and Ethan. But I want to be your future. I'm just asking you to give me … to give us a second chance."

"Okay," I agreed with a nod of my head.

And in the end, that's all that was needed. The past belongs to Scott, but the future belongs to Logan.

THE END


End file.
